


Touch-Tone Telephone

by LeoTheCloudKat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cryptid Hunting, Demons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Voice Kink, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoTheCloudKat/pseuds/LeoTheCloudKat
Summary: Jake English lives in the middle of the woods in Gladewater, Texas, with his sister Jade- a veterinarian- and his friend Jane, who is an aspiring detective. Dirk Strider lives in the heart of Texas with his younger brother, up in his apartment that has (in his opinion) one of the best broadcasting reaches this side of Houston. The perks of having such a nice apartment and the worst sleep schedule are that he can broadcast whatever he feels like on an empty AM channel and no one can hear his ramblings- except for Jake, that is.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	1. Truth about me & the truth about you

**Author's Note:**

> “Touch Tone Telephone DirkJake AU where Jake is a crazed conspiracist (because his friend Jane is a detective and he wants to be one too but that’s not important shh) and Dirk is the AM radio host whom he’s in love with” (idea courtesy of @jakenglish on twitter 😳 )
> 
> Jane thinks Jake might be losing it, cooped up in his home and drowning under his papers. Jade has known him far longer and insists that he just gets like this sometimes, and he’ll eventually wear himself out and move on to something else. Jake thinks that if he could only find the phone number of the man who speaks in such dulcet tones in the late hours of the night he’d be able to get that final piece of knowledge that he’s missing. His corkboard is covered in conspiracy theories that he knows must be true.

* * *

  
“He fell asleep at his desk again.”

“It happens sometimes when he gets too into something or another, don’t worry too much about him! He’s fine.”

“Is he  _ really,  _ though?”

“It’s not like any real harm comes of it! Nothing bad is gonna happen if he loses himself in his, er... ‘studies,’ Janey dearest.”

Jake doesn’t even register the voices of his sister and his friend when they come into the study to check on him, drooling onto his arm as he lays hunched over his desk, very much asleep. He stirs a bit when Jane flicks on the light overhead, the harsh buzz filling the room as the bulb warms up and slowly glows brighter.

“It’s going to ruin his sleep schedule is what’s going to happen, Jade,” Jane sighs, pulling the pen from Jake’s loose grip and poking him with it, not unlike how one would poke at a dead rat to make sure that it’s not just playing dead. “Wake up, you big bear. Hibernation season isn’t for another three months, and you have  _ actual  _ work to do.”

Jake grumbles and presses his face further into his arm, smearing drool across his cheek as he tries to hide. Jane pulls a face and looks to Jade for help, but Jade had already left the room. “Come on,” Jane huffs in irritation, putting her hands on her hips despite the fact that Jake can’t see her scolding look, “up you get you great big buffon. If you’re going to run the same job as me then you need to stop staying up so late listening to whatever cockamamie radio show is on.”

“It’s not some  _ cockamamie radio show _ ,” Jake replies, his voice rough from sleep and dehydration. “It’s a good… a good, uhm, what’s the word. I’m not nearly awake enough to argue with you right now.” As he sits up in his chair, his back cracks as the chair creaks under his weight. “It is cockamamie,” Jade replies brightly, walking into the room and balancing plates of assorted breakfast foods on her arms, “it’s the completely ridiculous and asinine ramblings of some lone man out in Houston, I bet. It’s nothing you need to be focusing on right now, unlike your real studies.” 

Jake sits up at his desk and turns, cracking his back in the process as he reaches out towards a plate to take it from Jade, but she moves away before he can reach. “I know, I know, but right now I want to focus on breakfast,” he grins sheepishly, tapping his hands idly on the back of his chair. “Lunch, you mean. You slept through breakfast because of how long you stayed up all night, you big dummy,” Jane sighs, taking a plate from Jade and moving a stool close to Jake’s desk- but not close enough for him to steal food off of her plate.

Once Jake is awake enough to get his legs moving again, the three of them move into the dining room and chat about plans for the day. Jane has work to do down at the precinct she works at, filing papers and taking a trip down to the morgue to see what she can find for a case. Jade plans to go to the opposite end of town to the veterinary shelter she works at to see if her coworker has brought back any stray cats again. “Don’t you have  _ any  _ plans for the day, Jacob?” Jane nudges, exasperation clear in her half-teasing tone as she accusingly points her fork at him. Jake just shrugs and stands to take his plate to the kitchen, mouth half full as he takes Jade’s plate as well once she offers it out to him.

“Not particularly, no! I do intend to go grocery shopping after I do the dishes and a bit of cleaning, and then I might try and finagle my way through the bills on the table and some application paperwork,” he grins, rolling up his sleeves so he can get started cleaning the dishes in the sink. “That is -of course- if my dear, mysterious radio host is not broadcasting by then. The strange fellow sure has an odd habit of coming onto the air at the most inopportune of moments, I do say.” Jane and Jade share a look over the table as Jake hums and scrubs away, sighing to themselves before going their opposite ways to pack for the day. “Don’t get too caught up with him,” Jade says as she passes Jake, patting his shoulder, “you don’t even know who he is, much less what he looks like. I sincerely doubt that you’ll get to meet him- and if you do, what would even happen?”

“I would ask him on a date,” Jake says with an air of sincerity and confidence that Jade prays doesn’t get his heart broken one day. “Of course you would. I have to go now though, don’t forget what you wanted to do today,” she smiles with an unwavering affection, reaching up to ruffle his hair. They were both taller than all of their friends, but everyone was surprised when Jake had a growth spurt just out of high school, shooting up even past Jade.

* * *

Jake’s day goes mostly as he had planned, doing various chores around the house that he and Jade had inherited once their grandmother had passed away. He recounts the chores he finished before going out to get groceries- the dishes were scrubbed and neatly put away, the house was swept, the plants were watered, fed, and pruned- and now he focuses on the crinkled list of groceries in his hand as he picks out meats, chips, and other things that were listed in Jade’s flowy handwriting.

He’s got time to make multiple trips to and from his car to unpack all the groceries he brought home as opposed to one giant trip, knowing that Jade won’t be home until the morning and he has plenty of time to listen to the man on the radio. He’s almost certain that the voice belongs to his pen pal in Houston- Dirk Strider, a “sick-wicked autodidact on ancient civilizations, a self-made master of mythologue, and a preternatural pop culture academe,” as he had introduced himself. His writing and typing mannerisms would certainly be a very near match to the honey-coated southern lilt that the mysterious radio host speaks in.

The aforementioned radio host has the alluring, pure decadence of speech that Jake has ever had the utter pleasure of listening to before, and his luck upon finding him was absolutely extraordinary. He was just scrolling through static-filled AM frequencies in the middle of the night a few days prior, half asleep and bored out of his mind, when the soft murmur of words from the tinny speakers caught his attention.

_ “-nd to my complete and utter fucking surprise, there it was. A whole devil it-fucking-self, the misshapen beast hunched over and cast in the flickering glow of the busted headlights on my truck. I knew I was right to remember the road I took, because now I had nowhere to go but backwards from where I’d come. There was no way in hell that I was going to drive straight into that thing, I’d bust my ride up so bad I’d have to take more than half the cash out of savings.”  _

As Jake’s interest became thoroughly piqued, he moved to turn the dial on the radio up and shuffle through the drawers of his desk in search of a pen and paper to write down the frequency number so that he could tune in again later. The voice continued on even as Jake scribbled away, chewing his lip as he listened to the voice of the man telling the story, steady and rough with sleep deprivation as he continued. If Jake focused hard enough, he could just barely make out the sounds of some kind of faded music in the background. It might be rap, but he can’t tell, not wanting to lose track of the story in favor of music he can barely make out.

_ “-nd shaking as the thing drew closer, twisted horns protruding from the top of the cracked cow skull that might have been covering its face- if the skull wasn’t what remained of it that is. Tangled, greasy ‘hair’ fell over its head, reaching down past its shoulders and tangling up into its horns. This thing was a hell of a lot taller than my fucking bro, and he’s six foot two- this thing was a massive hulking beast ambling towards my truck like it had a personal vendetta against my sorry ass.”  _

“What did I miss before this…?” Jake barely whispered out, his voice soft and hushed as he scribbled onto the pad of paper, trying to figure out what the creature this man could have seen looked like. 

_ “If I weren’t so sure that this thing was drenched in blood and viscera I could have sworn it had just crawled out of the lake a few miles up, but no. That shit was definitely blood, the slick shine proof enough that it was fresh. Its hooves were either blacker than the soil below in the trees off to the side of the dirt road I was driving on or caked in the same bloody gunk stuck in its matted fur, and its hands… well, Jesus fucking Christ, man, how the hell should I say this?” _

“Its hands? What did they--?”

_ “It was like the muscle had rotted onto the bone below, skin pulled taut over spindly arms that ended with bony wrists, gnarled fingers, and the scariest fucking nails I’d ever seen. It looked like this devil hadn’t taken a bath since it came out of whatever gross alien egg it probably incubated in. Imagine your grandpa hasn’t taken a bath in three hundred years or so, refuses to cut his nails into anything other than soot- and grime-stained claws, and has been rotting beneath the fucking earth for centuries.” _

As the radio host paused to take a breath- and crack open a can of soda, if Jake had heard correctly- Jake carefully sketched out the arms of the beast with a thousand questions on his mind. Did the hands end in human adjacent nails or beastly claws? What were its teeth like, and how did this man come across such a horrible beast? Where and when did this happen? Who-

_ “Thank god I was still in my truck, though. I didn't look it in the eye- I’m not that stupid- and I immediately gunned it in the other direction as fast as my shitty ‘83 Toyota would go. I didn’t look into my rear mirror until I hit a road that wasn’t dirt, which took a longer while than what I would've liked. It was about five in the morning and the sun wasn’t gonna rear its ugly head for about another hour, so I just went home and tried not to wake my little brother up when I got back to the apartment. When you go out cryptid hunting every other night it tends to fuck with your sleep schedule, but I’m just lucky we both agree that the hours of four am to nine pm are ‘do not disturb under penalty of death, I’m fucking sleeping’ hours.” _

_ “The best part of the whole fucking ordeal was that I have proof. For those of you just tuning in, (as if anyone listens to this), I’ve got a picture of it up on my blog. It’s just www dot the numbers of the radio station right now dot com. Photos of shit I’ve come across, sketches that I’ve done, softcore puppet porn, theories no one will ever read, et fuckin’ cetera. I just uploaded it now since I didn’t want to forget about it later. Anyways it’s almost seven AM now and I’ve got work in two hours so I should go get something to eat. And probably shower to get the sweat and dirt off, I guess. Peace out, and good night.” _

It took a moment before the radio switched back to static, Jake poised over his pad of paper with awe, pen held loosely in his hand. He’d have to check out that blog site another time, checking the clock mounted on his wall to confirm that it was, in fact, 6:45 AM. Going back to the present, however, showed that it was 8 PM, and Jake was making himself dinner with the radio station tuned in. He’s found that the host of that particular station starts broadcasting at any time from 8 PM to 3 AM, depending on what he got up to that day, so Jake keeps the radio on in order to catch him if he can. At this point it’s been about a week and change since Jake found the station, and he’s sure that the host doesn’t think anyone cares enough to tune in and listen to him ramble on about theories of monsters, aliens, cryptids, spirits, or whatever else the topic might be that day.

But Jake cares. Oh, good fucking lord does he care. Finally, something supposedly extraordinary that he can focus on instead of menial tasks and boring paperwork. Something so completely and utterly bizarre that it must be either the product of the radio host’s twisted mind or something true that has been kept a secret from the general public. Something that he can listen to as he draws, as he does chores, as he… well. What can Jake say, the voice on the radio is very alluring. Positively charming and captivating, his accent a lovely cadence of sound and syllables perfectly timed as if he were reading from a script.

The website is interesting as well, of course, full of pictures of horrifying creatures, gorgeous sunsets, and the occasional (and oddly suggestive?) puppet posed in a manner that makes Jake frown for a number of reasons. But the blog doesn’t have the voice on the radio to narrate. His voice is incredibly level, speaking in quiet tones and in such a way that Jake can and has gotten lost in the story, waiting with bated breath for the next line to give him a breath of relief. The way the story is narrated gives it a completely natural flow, and Jake is sure that the radio host is completely unscripted as he speaks.

The radio on the counter hisses to life through a wave of harsh static before settling in, the voice Jake has come to love pouring out of the speakers as Jake hurries to finish making his food.

_ “Good evening, Houston. It’s currently 8:34 PM where I’m at, sitting at my desk and watching the sun go down. It’s a pretty decent sunset today, but I don’t have my brother’s camera on me so I can’t take a picture. It’s just not the same if you don’t use a professional camera, phone quality is pretty shit. But anyways. Do I have a hell of a story for you tonight, empty radio air. Buckle in.” _


	2. ‘Cause you’re a brand new species

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk goes out into the woods again, thinking gay thoughfs and getting into trouble. Dave worries about a lot of things and then goes out to get him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting comments just a few hours after posting the first chapter was an absolutely euphoric event let me just say. Thank you to all of you who have read so far, I hope you enjoy the series! Also, I know pretty much nothing about Texas, so take the scenery with a grain of salt.  
> Warnings for this chapter: Passing mention of Bro Strider, implied familial abuse, blood mention (none of these are explicit)

* * *

Living in the heart of Texas can be really, really boring sometimes. Like sure, you could go out and get wasted at a bar or try some new drug at a rave or whatever, but interacting with people is exhausting- and Dirk has never really been one for social events anyways. He spends most of his time working for the Skaianet corporation as a mechanical engineer, fixing power outages or frayed wiring or whatever other menial task he’ll do just to get jipped on payday.

At night, however, he has all the time he wants to do what he wants. He could sleep, sure, or he could take his truck out to the edge of the woods and search for cryptids and demons. No one cares enough about what he does outside of his work except for his brother- and even then, neither of them are going to chastise each other on their terrible sleeping habits. Dave has his music to write, homework for college to do, and friends to play games with. Dirk would join him in a friendly bout of rap if he hadn’t been dragged feet first, kicking and screaming, into the world of cryptid hunting.

The night is his refuge, the ever mysterious expanse of dark night stretched across the top of the globe, spattered with stars and planets and things no one can even see without the proper equipment- and even then, who’s to say that humanity will ever be able to see all that there is of the universe. There is no hiding under the eye of the moon tonight, a bright and unwavering sliver in the sky. A waxing crescent the night that Dirk goes out to where he last saw the devil, searching for remnants that could give him proof aside from the photo he took. Photos can always be discredited, but tangible proof is harder to sweep under the metaphorical or literal rug.

Hoof prints, hair, blood, anything would be useful, but he doesn’t find anything as Dave had guessed. They both know of the existence of the paranormal and otherworldly, having been drawn to it as kids (and accidentally stumbled across literal proof that gave them both a healthy dose of trauma), but now it’s only Dirk who actively seeks it out. Maybe it’s a lack of self preservation, a sense of danger that draws him in, or simply the endless gnawing search for knowledge that drives him to keep putting himself into the hands of devils and demons. Whatever the case may be, it’s just fun to go hunting for the paranormal creatures that inhabit the woods outside of city limits, and tonight is no exception.

He has a few items on him to help, of course, he wouldn’t be caught dead without his phone. A katana laying in the back of the truck that his older brother had gifted him at six years old before dipping and leaving him and Dave in the ‘care’ of a deranged strife-obsessed maniac. Thanks, Dane, real fucking cool. A case of water bottles in the passenger seat, his wallet safely tucked into an inner pocket of his leather jacket, and food settled in a cooler he keeps strapped to the bed of the truck. The last thing he has is a flashlight and a gun in his glove box, just in case. He can’t count on his phone’s light 100% of the time, and he’ll never know if he needs to defend himself without getting close enough to swing a blade. 

The moon is high in the sky when Dirk gets out of his car, katana strapped to his hip and gloves on his hands as he searches the ground for evidence. The ridiculousness of wearing fingerless gloves under plastic ones doesn’t escape him, rambling to himself as he scours the dirt. He doesn’t find anything, as he suspected, and sighs as he heads back to his truck. He’ll venture a little deeper into the woods despite all of the worn, overgrown metal warning signs telling him that he’s trespassing on private property. No one lives out here, so the only private property he’s trespassing on is the land belonging to the strange creatures that he’s determined to prove to the world actually exist.

Speaking of proving that something exists, Dirk got a notification from his proudest (and most annoying) creation, the auto-responder, that someone had been frequently visiting his blog site as of late. At least four visits a day on average, it had said, starting about a month and a half ago. No comments, likes, or other identifying things left behind though, so they didn’t leave behind an email or username for Dirk to track. Or maybe his mysterious new follower is just shy, who’s to say. But either way, it’s clear that they’re interested in his work, be it a kid, someone who thinks it’s fake, or someone who can actually help him figure things out. So he made a decision (and even wrote it down on a sticky note and put it up on his monitor so he doesn’t forget) to track their IP address and see if he can’t figure out who exactly it is that’s so intent on new content.

But back to the subject at hand. The autoresponder is constantly tracking his position so he knows how to get back home in the dark since driving in these woods with the busted headlights isn’t exactly a good way to determine where he is all the time, the gritty rumble of the gravel under his tires a constant as he makes his way down the dirt roads in the dark. His phone lights up from beside him, the same message appearing in the corner of his shades. It took a hell of a lot of coding and wiring for that little trick, and it’s been insanely useful so far even if he has to wear a pair of Kamina shades in public. But then again, he’s driving, so he lets Hal take care of it for him. It’s probably not important anyways.

**_DAVE: hey man are you out rn?_ **

**_i just got home so lemme know what you want me to leave out for you food-wise when you get back. dont stay out too late._ **

Dirk takes off his shades so he isn’t distracted by the chat application going off, as well as to help him see a little further ahead in the dark. Maybe driving with dark glasses on isn’t a good idea anyways. It’s not like he’s going to run into anything anyways, right? He’s just got his phone this time, since Dave doesn’t like that he keeps taking his camera out on his ‘adventures.’

**_DIRK: It seems you have reached DS’s chat client autoresponder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the phone. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 96% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now._ **

The farther he drives, the more his determination to search dwindles. He never makes it into the heart of the forest, that’s where some undoccumented lake is. Kids used to go down there and get lost as hell and die, so Dirk never cared to go that far out. The nearest town is Gladewater, where his pen pal and (most likely unrequited) crush lives with his sister and detective friend. Maybe someday he’ll take the actual road up to Jake’s place and introduce himself in person. But he hasn’t even shown his face to Jake outside of a blurry high selfie he sent while at a party, which he sent without thinking- accompanied by the most embarrassing message coupled with a winky face he’s ever sent. 

**_DAVE: ok hal jesus christ man you dont have to do the whole thing every time dirk cant come to the fucking phone just let him know im making food and hes got five minutes before i get bored and just make ramen again._ **

A bump in the road jostles him out of his thoughts, cursing at himself as he lays off of the gas. He keeps forgetting that he’ll end up running over some kind of small animal or hitting a deer if he doesn’t watch his speed and where he’s going in the dark. It’s what he gets for fantasizing about the one and only photo Jake has ever sent of his own face, clearly laughing with someone’s arm slung over his shoulders, their dark complexion nearly matching his own. It was in response to Dirk’s photo, and Dirk didn’t even see Jake’s message until he woke up at home the next day. 

**_DIRK: Roger that. He’s out hunting for Bigfoot again, so maybe something that will help him stop chasing urban legends that don’t exist for fun._ **

Hal beeps at him from his phone, a clip of his own voice telling him to “check your phone, gayass.” Hal synthesized it, of course, he never recorded that himself, but he ignores it up until the fifth time it goes off, pulling over to the side of the ‘road’ to check his phone.

**_DAVE: got it. also let him know that Bro called me an hour ago and told me that hes coming to our house for a ‘check-up,’ which means hes out of jail now and plans to beat our asses._ **

“Oh shit,” Dirk sighs, already irritated at Hal and now having to deal with Derek dropping by and potentially trying to break in and assault the two of them again. At least he can call the cops and flaunt the restraining order he was able to file for at 18. Dave was still just 16 at the time, but they went through a lot together.

**_DIRK: Alright, it’s actually me this time. Hal wouldn’t stop beeping at me until I picked up the phone. Do you want to call and talk about it? That or I can just come home now and help you barricade the apartment so he can’t get in when he shows up. I have a copy of the restraining order in the kitchen, under the dick magnet on the freezer half._ **

Dirk, too worried about the future to think about the present, is completely unaware of something approaching his car as he types to his brother. 

**_DAVE: i know. its cool if you stay out for another hour or so but just make sure to be home before 5 AM so we can lock everything up._ **

**_DIRK: Yeah, got it. I’ll actually come home right now, if I can find a place to turn around. S_ **

**_DAVE: ‘S’? you good man?_ **

**_DIRK: It’s Hal again. Dirk can’t come to the phone right now, something happened. I’m trying to determine *what* exactly happened, since he hasn’t installed any night vision cameras anywhere yet, but it wasn’t good._ **

**_DAVE: is he okay?_ **

**_DIRK: I don’t know. I’m sending you the location right now, he’s not in the truck and he didn’t take his shades with him. I suggest bringing a weapon, just in case._ **

Dave takes a deep breath in a futile attempt to soothe his high strung nerves, shaking out his hands and gathering supplies. Leave it to Dirk to get in trouble in the middle of the woods again on the worst day for it. Dave sighs as he picks his katana up and out of the glass casing he keeps it in, pulling his emergency bag onto his shoulder and tossing it into the passenger seat of his car. It’s a 10 minute drive from here if he obeys traffic laws, but he intends to cut that down to five minutes. It’s not like anyone will be awake to catch him.

Jake waits by the radio for a show that doesn’t come on, falling asleep with the radio static buzzing away. No new blog post in the morning when he checks, no good morning text from Dirk, and a gnawing feeling of dread all pile up on his shoulders as he makes himself breakfast. A knock on the door startles him out of his racing thoughts, plating his eggs and bacon before going to get the door. 

“I’m coming, hold your horses,” he calls out when the visitor knocks again, wiping cooking grease off on his shorts. Opening the door, he pauses upon seeing the two blondes standing outside, the shorter one of the two supporting the weight of the other. It’s not a good sight to see this early in the morning, his breath torn from his lungs once he recognizes the dark stains seeping through their dirt-smudged clothing, the taller one’s head hanging down as the younger supports him.

“Hey. Sorry to bother you so early, but we can’t exactly go to our house right now. Are you Jake? Dirk’s friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hoping to do somewhat weekly updates so stay tuned! Let me know if I should tag anything, and I’ll be putting warnings in the notes from now on


	3. Big Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Dave seeks help from Jake, Roxy comes to check up on Dirk at the Half-Harley house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually have a 2k word limit per chapter, but this one was just so fun to write so it’s a bit longer 🥺👉👈

* * *

Dave doesn’t have time to worry about the state of the apartment or the threat of their older brother coming back to get them, he’s more worried about if Dirk is alright. By the looks of Hal’s messages, he might be in a hell of a lot of trouble- not that he can’t get out of it himself, of course, he’s been in trouble with lots of things before- but this shit looks serious.

The woods are an old friend to the Striders, a comfort to which they would escape after each training session that left them bruised and teary, clinging to one another for support. The remains of a tree house could be found if Dave went a little more to the East, but he knows that Dirk takes the gravelly paths down towards the lake when he’s hunting the creatures that lurk in the dim light, appearing only in your peripheral vision to melt back into the shadows as soon as you turn your head. Dave knows the danger of these creatures and stays away. Dirk knows as well, but he doesn’t care enough for his own safety to stay out of trouble.

Dave takes his own car out so he doesn’t have to run there, afraid of what he might bump into in the dark of the night. Hal has gone silent, which is never a good sign, but he could just be focused on trying to talk to Dirk. Roxy is as much of a comforting friend as she is their dearest cousin, but she’s no help at this hour. Dirk has the address of his crush written down in his phone, so maybe that would be the best place to go so they don’t have to worry about Bro or if Roxy is even home.

Hal would grip Dirk by the shoulders and shake him back awake if he could, but Dirk is out cold and Hal is unable to physically intervene. Something Hal couldn’t process had crashed into the car from the side, tearing into the door and dragging Dirk out onto the ground. It’s not like anything that they had run into before, but definitely the most handsy. Dirk had hit his head when the creature had startled them, flung against the door and hit his dead on the window which promptly knocked him out. 

Hal can’t feel fear- thank god, or he’d be having a panic attack right now- so he tries to contact Dave again, telling the younger Strider what the situation is from where he can see it against the floor of the forest. 

_**DIRK: He’s out cold. Something slammed into the driver’s side door and Dirk, ever the safe one, wasn’t wearing his seat belt. Whatever it is that hit the truck dragged him out of the truck and is taking a sniff, so get here fast before it decides that Dirk’s rank ass stench from going without a shower for weeks isn’t going to deter it from eating him.** _

_**DAVE: omw hold ur horese** _

_**DAVE: horse** _

_**DAVE: s** _

Dave is trying his damn best not to freak out, but even if Hal tries to joke around and lighten the mood in a shitty poke at Dirk, it won’t work. He may as well be pressing the gas on his anxiety levels as well as his car, cursing as gravel sprays up against the bottom of his car. It’s no hefty truck like Dirk has, but it’s still a half decent hunk of junk. He just hopes that he can hit whatever it is that’s trying to eat his brother so that he can get them both out of there. They’ll get the truck back tomorrow when the sun is up.

The headlights of Dirk’s truck give away where he is, and Dave slams on the brakes as soon as his own headlights wash over the form of the beast. For one, it’s fucking _massive_ , bigger than the truck it had slammed into and covered in matted fur a similar ugly vomit-yellow color of the bath mat in Dirk’s bathroom. Four curling horns protrude out from the hair on its head, and it’s mouth is cracked open to reveal rows of jagged, uneven teeth set behind jet black lips. It swivels its head towards Dave’s car the minute he stops, its eyes glinting back in the harsh glow of his headlights. 

Dirk is laying on the ground next to it, sprawled out and disheveled but otherwise looking to be alright, and Dave lets out a relieved breath at that. The ambient sounds of the forest are unsettlingly silent as Dave tries to regulate his own breathing, staring down the creature as he decides whether or not to go through with his plan of ramming it with his car. The most likely outcome of that seems to be that his car will crumple under the pressure like a can of coke if the mangled door of Dirk’s truck- barely on its hinges, that’s going to be costly and hard to explain- is any indication.

Luckily he doesn’t have to choose, the creature straightening up to its full height and ambling through the trees and disappearing once more. For fuck’s sake, the thing was nearly as tall as the trees surrounding them- but that’s not the most important thing here. Dave immediately opens his own door and flings his seatbelt off so hard that the buckle clunks loudly against the side of his door before he jumps out and runs over to his brother.

He’s mumbling to himself, a stream of anxious rambling that doesn’t help as he lifts the dead weight of Dirk onto his shoulders and picks up the cracked shades from the ground to put them back on Dirk’s face. “Soon as you can, Hal, give me his vitals so I can see if I need to take him to a hospital or not. And an update on Bro’s flight to see if the apartment is okay to go back to or not.”

Getting Dirk into the car isn’t too hard- they’ve each had their own turns half-carrying each other places if one or the other was too hurt to walk properly. Hal’s light on the glasses flickers to life, hopefully taking Dirk’s vitals and assessing the situation. While he does that, Dave takes a few deep breaths in order to school his heart rate and calm himself before he gets back to driving. “Nothing worse than freaking yourself and getting into a crash when there’s nothing to worry about,” he murmurs, his phone chiming to let him know that Hal has gotten his work done. Dave just calls Dirk’s number so he can have Hal talk to him while he drives, more worried about getting into a crash while texting than Bro’s visit to their apartment.

_“Dirk’s heart rate indicates that he’s asleep, and his injuries are as follows: concussion, bruising from the left side of the head down across his left shoulder and back, left wrist sprain, left dislocated hip, three bruised ribs, minor laceration on the right side of his lower back (ouch, that’ll need attention soon), and the address of his friend is…”_

Dave sighs as Hal lists off all of the injuries, plugging the address into his GPS and gearing up for the two hour drive. He’ll stop soon so that he can patch up Dirk and disinfect any other scratches, but for now his very first priority is to get them both out of the woods. “Any news on the Bro situation, Hal?”

“ _Derek Strider is on his way to Casa del Strider via local bus as we speak, set to arrive in thirty four minutes’ time. The doors and windows are locked, computers are encrypted, and swords are stored in their proper casings. The police will be notified as soon as he attempts to enter.”_

“Thanks. Do you think that the guy Dirk likes is trustworthy? Have you done a check on him yet?”

“ _Jacob English, 23 years old, currently unemployed and living with his sister and their mutual friend. A movie fanatic and collector of skulls, just as fascinated with the unknown as Dirk is. Dirk and Jake are 87% compatible and have a 61% chance of dating after one week of meeting. Neither of them know these statistics.”_

“Okay, that’s good. At least he’ll be good for Dirk, it would fucking suck if he got caught up in his head again and got stuck in a relationship that wasn’t good for him.”

The conversation lulls until Hal chimes up when Derek reaches the apartment and Dave pulls into a gas station, patching up Dirk’s wounds and shaking dirt off of their clothes. Dirk still hasn’t woken up, which is incredibly concerning, but he’ll deal with that when they get to Jake’s house. “ _I should note that neither of them have heard each others’ voices before, so you should ask if the person who answers the door really is Jake English.”_

“Yeah, I know. But I think from how often Dirk rambles about how great this guy is that he’s some strain of trustworthy, right? Besides, we can’t exactly go back to the apartment with Derek lurking around, and Roxy is even further away. Actually, text Roxy and see if she’s willing to come and help me with this, it’d be nice to have a familiar face to help with Dirk’s problems.”

* * *

Jake’s house is buried deep in the middle of a lovely patch of forest, surrounded by the woods and safely hidden away from the rest of the city. Jade and Jane both have jobs down with the rest of the town, but Jake is still undecided. Sure, he has plenty of money from his portion of the inheritance after their grandmother had died, but it wouldn’t last him forever. He stays at home and daydreams so often that Jade has half-joked about the fact that he may just become one of the trees if he can’t get his head out of the clouds.

But regardless of that, what surprises him the most is that other people can find the place. And speaking of that…

Finding someone at his doorstep is always a surprise, and it quickly turns to an unpleasant one once he realizes the situation. “Come in, come in, I’ll find some decent medical supplies for you. Dear fucking lord, what happened??” Jake worriedly chews at his lip as he helps Dirk’s brother bring the half-conscious man inside. “His car got totaled a few hours ago, you were the closest person we could reach. Couldn’t really go home for… personal reasons, hope this is okay. I’ve already called our cousin to see if she can make the trip here, if that’s cool.” Jake just nods distractedly after they both get Dirk seated at the dining table, stepping away into the kitchen to find pain relievers.

“You are absolutely welcome to invite family over to help, this is serious. Would you fill me in on what exactly happened when I come back from the bathroom? I have medical supplies there.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s no problem, man.” Dave gives a thumbs up as Jake heads off, setting a little white bottle down on the table for Dirk. It looks like a pretty strong analgesic, which will probably be very appreciated once Dirk fully comes to. At the moment, though, Dirk is awake but very much out of it- mumbling about something or other with his eyes closed and his head lolling onto Dave’s shoulder. He was hit pretty hard, covered in dirt and monster drool when Dave went to pick him up off of the forest floor, but he should be at least a little more lucid by now. “Whatever that thing was, it must’ve been pretty fucking strong to hit the truck that hard. Jesus Christ, I hope you don’t have permanent brain damage from this or something. For fucks’ sake…”

“What thing? Did he hit an animal?” Jake pipes up as he waltzes back into the room carrying a tan box clearly labelled ‘medicine.’ “More or less? It looked like a big fuckin’ ox, except with two pairs of goat horns. Dirk wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.” Jake tsks at that, gently taking Dirk’s head in his hands to tilt it back and forth, shining a pen light into his eyes. “That isn’t very smart of him, now is it? I expected better of him, what with how intelligent he sounds through text.” Dave snorts and takes a swig of apple juice from the flask in his pocket, earning a wary glance from Jake. “Apple juice,” he clarifies, and Jake shrugs it off.

“Well, your poor brother is definitely suffering from a terrible concussion, and by the looks of it, should be ‘waking up’ (so to speak) in about a half-hours’ time. He might have a terrible migraine on top of that, the poor thing. I’ll put him to bed and we can talk while we wait for your cousin to arrive, yeah?” Dave shrugs and gives a ‘go on’ motion with his hand before Jake effortlessly lifts Dirk in his arms and carries him off, tucking him into Jake’s own bed with a glass of water on the nightstand before making his way back to the kitchen to sit down. “So,” he starts, rubbing his hands together, “what’s the deal with Dirk’s truck? Do you need it towed? What hit him- or, more accurately I assume, what did he hit?”

“You sure have a lot of questions,” Dave grins, gratefully taking a cold glass of water that Jake hands him while Hal’s text pops up in the corner of Dave’s shades. He’s lucky that Dirk was able to program a normal pair of aviator shades in the same way that he programmed his own, even though they now look like the thickest pair of aviators to date. “Dirk’s truck is absolutely totaled in the western side of the forest by Houston. Two hour drive from there to here. We’ll deal with it, don’t worry. And before I tell you what hit him, I’ve gotta ask you a question. Do you believe in the supernatural?”

Jake’s face lights up like a christmas tree at the last bit, but before he can answer, a knock comes from the door. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be Rox.”

“ _Rocks_??”

“Roxy. Roxanne. Our cousin. But yeah, she rocks.”

* * *

Explaining the situation to both Roxy and Jake was easier than Dave had thought, especially since he had Hal to help him fill in the lines and record their questions so that he didn’t forget. In layman's terms: Dirk went out hunting, his truck got railed by some giant ox/goat/sheepdog creature, almost got eaten, and was asleep for most of the 2 and a half hour car drive. “It was a whole fucking mess, too, and our older brother is visiting today (long story, he just got out of jail and neither of us want to see him) so that’s why we’re here. Thanks for coming Rox. Again, it means a fucking lot. I’m sure he’s gonna be happy to see you when he wakes up.” Roxy gives a warm smile and a thumbs up upon being addressed, leaning her head amicably on Jake’s shoulder. Jake notes that she smells very strongly of ginger snaps, butterscotch, and scotch whiskey. It’s a good smell for her. “Nooo problem, Davey! Jus’ glad I could make it ‘n time, yanno? Traffic russhhh hour ‘n all a that shit.” 

“Need a glass of water, Ms. Lalonde?” Jake inquires half-jokingly, his eyebrows quirked as he listens to her talk. “It sounds like you’re trying to speak through a mouthful of cotton.” She just snorts and waves him off, grinning as she straightens up. “Nahh, I’m not drunk. Tha’s just how a bitch be when she can’t think straight enough to speak right. Too many thoughts, head perpetchially full.”

“Perpetually, you mean?”

“Patriarchally.”

“Perpendicularily.”

“What the fuck are you three talking about…?” Comes a voice from the hallway behind where Jake and Roxy are seated, rough with sleep. Jake straightens like he’s been slapped, whereas Roxy and Dave just turn to look at Dirk leaning against the hallway wall. “Hey man, good to see that you’re up. How you feelin, bro?” Dirk pulls a face that sends Roxy into a fit of snickering, and Dirk gives a soft smile in return, his gaze moving past his brother and his cousin squarely to land on Jake. “Hey. You must be Jake. It’s nice to meet you in person this time, I hope you’ve actually been getting the written letters I’ve sent you on top of all the emails and texts and shit.”

Jake opens and closes his mouth for a second, just processing the sound of Dirk’s voice. “You… hold on,” he tries, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This makes sense, then, why the radio- it’s you. You’re the person on the radio, that’s why there wasn’t a broadcast tonight, because you were out hunting! And got all banged up in the process, too, you poor thing. But it’s you!! You’re the radio host!”

Now it’s Dirk’s turn to be speechless, his face flushing as he reaches to push up his shades in an attempt to hide behind the piece of tech that isn’t there. His shades lay busted in the passenger seat of Dave’s car, and Dirk swallows thickly before trying to speak again. “You… you listen to my broadcast…?”


End file.
